Intersecting Lines Drabbles
by unicorn1111
Summary: A series of short vignettes on the people who make up the world of Intersecting Lines. So far we have Maura and Jane, Anastasia and Natalie's and Alex and Olivia's perspective's posted. Next up is Sharon.
1. Chapter 1

**Intersecting Lines – Drabbles**

**Maura**

She is strong and brave and fearless and giving and most important of all, she is mine.

I was brought up to be modest and gentle and self-effacing and to share, not take, but she is the one thing that is unequivocally mine, I will fight to keep her safe and well and mine.

I lay with her, feeling her trembling in my arms while she is sleeping and while I normally bear no one ill will, I curse Charles Hoyt's name and wish him an eternity in an afterlife of torments.

She is lean and tall and strong and loving, she is everything I ever dreamed of in a life partner. While the fact that my perfect complement was a woman came as a surprise, her personality, her protectiveness, the love given so freely and without question, that was not, for it is so quintessentially her.

I was drawn to her for her warmth, her care, her willingness to overlook my sometimes difficult personality traits to become my friend, the first, best friend I have ever truly had.

Over time I saw all that she was and looked beyond the exterior she turns to face the world, the armor she uses to protect herself from a life of cruelty, seeing instead a shy, loving woman who is devoted to her friends, her family and I.

We are polar opposites in so many ways, but proof of that trite saying opposites attract. When we first met, I recognized that she was a gorgeous woman and a fearless detective, but I did not realise she was everything I had ever sought in a lover.

She is loving, protective, caring and devoted to me in ways I thought only existed in fiction; the reality is so much more than I could have ever imagined.

Not that she is perfect, she is messy, disorganised, sarcastic and careless with her clothes, her health and her life; I despair at the number of times she has been injured in the line of duty.

Her past haunts her still, Hoyt most of all, but he is not the only one, other monsters exist, she has hunted them down but each has left their mark, stalking the quietness of the night. Many are the nights I am woken by her quiet whimpers, her trembling and her tears, as she confronts the monsters of the past that stalk her dreams once more.

I hold her to me and whisper words of comfort, bringing her back to me, to the love we have, the knowledge that they have lost and we have won.

For all that though, she remains true to herself, sarcastic, selfless and self-depreciating, passionate and giving and above all mine. How I was ever so fortunate is beyond me but she is as essential to me as oxygen, without her I feel lost, restless and unsettled, without centre or grounding I am adrift; she is my anchor in turbulent seas; with her I know we will survive anything life can throw at us.

I wear her ring and she wears mine, but these are simply outwards signs of what we both know, we are meant to be together, our love binds us, defines us and completes us, whatever we are, whatever we do, together we are stronger.

Our shared love is the stuff of classic romances, but it is real, that fact at times leaves me stunned and shaken, to know that I have somehow managed to find my one true love is something I cannot and will not ever take for granted.

My life has boiled down to one simple truth, she is mine and I am hers, today, tomorrow and forever.

She is Jane and she is all that I have ever hoped and dreamed of, in a lover, a partner and a friend.


	2. Chapter 2

**Intersecting Lines – Drabbles**

**Jane**

She is everything to me, as essential as the air I breathe, without her I'd drown.

Golden hair and gold flecked eyes reflect her inner beauty, there isn't a nasty, mean bone in her body, she's the finest example of the goodness and greatness to be found in people.

You see it, the joy she sees in the world reflected in those around her, her presence lighting up their life. Others around her can see and recognise it; even the toughest of beat cops turn a little bit soft around her, seeing a goodness they need to protect, to be gentle with.

People who didn't know her once called her the Queen of the Dead; how wrong they were, she's full of life and love and enthusiasm for the strangest things, from Egyptian mummies, insect life cycles and Andalusian stallions to California Redwoods, the history of leather tanning and ancient Chinese emperors, I still don't really understand how she can know so much, even after all this time.

She is open and giving and full of life and hope, she's filled my life with warmth and love and changed me for the better.

When I met her I was a dead woman walking, he'd torn all that was good and gentle and soft out of me and watched it melt into that dirty floor, mixed with my blood. He left a gaping hole in my soul that nothing could heal, until she came into my life.

I couldn't let anyone in, couldn't let them see how badly broken I was, how I was past saving, but she ignored all of that, casually strolled into the centre of my life and my heart and made a place for herself there, with soft words, soft smiles and softer touches, showing me how wrong I was.

It was no surprise I fell in love with her, she is everything good I have ever dreamed of, even before we became lovers her smiles could light up my life, her gentle care healing my heart and soul. I needed her in my life before, now I couldn't live without her.

I loved being her friend, but I kept wondering why she bothered, I couldn't give her the life she was accustomed to, the life she deserved, keep her in the silks and satins and shoes she was used too. Then I learned more about her and wondered how someone who'd grown up with so little love could be so full of it herself, so much she was willing to share, with me of all people.

Her beauty takes my breath away, I see us together and wonder how I was ever so lucky, to have the most beautiful woman I've ever met love me and look at me like I'm something special. The only thing special about me is that somehow I'm with her, that we're together.

She is stronger than she looks, facing horrors that make strong men weep, but those experiences have made her cherish life, made her see that life is to be lived, experienced and loved, and she has taught me that same lesson.

In a way, she is a teacher above everything else, imparting a life-long education, not just obscure facts and grammar lessons but teaching me that I can be happy, I can love and be loved, that together we can overcome every obstacle and that we can be us, whole and complete and one.

She's the embodiment of everything good and bright and warm and loving in my life, I need her like the air I breathe and I'd lay down my life in an instant to protect her, to keep her safe.

She is Maura and she is the shining light of my life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Intersecting Lines – Drabbles**

**Anastasia**

I watch over her as she sleeps, seeking to protect the most important thing in the universe.

She is everything good and joyous in my life, embodied in a single stunningly gorgeous, infinitely precious package.

She is beauty and grace and light and happiness, all wrapped into the one person I am humbled to say loves me.

She is all bright and bubbly and warm sunshine, bringing shining hope to my dark world and lighting my path to a better life.

She is breathtakingly beautiful; to this day I wonder how I ever got so lucky and what she sees in me. That she loves me despite all my failings is a gift from god; one I give thanks for every day.

My life comes in two very different parts, the dark despairing time before I met her when I was a broken wreck; then afterwards, when she took me in and loved me and healed me, making me a better person, one who tries to be worthy of the love she gives me so wholeheartedly.

She is joy personified, all who she meets are changed, you can see her happiness drawing others to her, they come for her looks but stay for her personality, to bask in that happiness , soak up the warmth of her joy and be lifted by it.

She loves openly, unselfconsciously and fully, to be the object of it is something that can leave me breathless, unable to fully comprehend the astoundingly good fortune that made me hers.

She is warm and funny and flirty and happy and somehow she transfers those same emotions to all who know her, when she enters a room you can see the heads turn, the backs straighten, the unconscious reactions of all who meet her, instinctively responding to her shining presence, as they vie with each other to attract her attention or stare in hopeless longing as they realise she is so far, far outside their league.

I can taste their bitter envy and feel their dark looks as I stand by her side, our fingers entwined as they wonder how of everyone she could have had, she picked me to be her chosen companion, her lover and her other half.

I wonder too, what I ever did to deserve her.

When I try and tell her this she laughs, insisting that they wouldn't be interested if they knew the whole story, her flaws and failures, the mistakes she still regrets and the mess she's made of things in the past, as I shake my head, still unable to get her to see just how precious and perfect she is.

Model looks, a stunning body that improves anything she wears, eyes that can be cold as ice when she's angry, but more usually glow with joy.

A smile that can warm up the coldest of nights and a laugh that banishes my darkest mood, I crave her presence, even as I know I cannot hold her to me all the time, no matter how much I desperately need her.

She is poise and grace and presence, eyes follow her as she moves, but somehow she barely sees it, instead laughing as she looks at me and tells me they are jealous of her, envious that she belongs to me and with good reason, as I feel my cheeks burn.

She proud and passionate and perfect, somehow she chose me, she could have had anyone she wanted but she chose me, I still don't know what she saw in me but I never want her to ever regret that choice.

I am hers, heart, mind, body and soul, now and forever.

She is Natalie and she is the embodiment of joy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Intersecting Lines – Drabbles**

**Natalie**

I lie here and wonder how I came to be so blessed.

She sleeps and I watch her, listening to the gentle sound of her breathing, wondering what I ever did to deserve her.

She is all I have ever dreamed of, all I could ever want.

She is fierce, in pursuit of the guilty, in defending the innocent, in protecting her loved ones and safeguarding me.

She is tender; through word, look and deed she treats me like I am infinitely precious and loved, even more in that she makes me feel I am worthy of her devotion.

She is mischievous; the teasing between us is a big part of her; she gives back better than she gets, making me aware we are matched, an extremely fortunate pair.

She is sombre, delivering the worst possible news to families of the victim's, showing a compassion that I envy whilst remaining stoic in the face of their devestation, whereas I would go to pieces.

She is joy, her laughter carries me with her, her laugh can draw a smile from me no matter how bad my mood and when she turns her attention to dragging me out of a funk, I am helpless to resist her, soon sharing her mirth.

She is sadness, her despair palpable as she contemplates her failures and mistakes, the things she could or should have done differently, accepting nothing less than perfection, as if lives depend on them, unfortunately all too often they do.

She is light, when she turns her warmth and joy on someone, you can see them glow, how they rise to be worthy of her attention, her interest, her time, she draws the best from others, sometimes I see it and I feel jealous that others experience that, before scolding myself that I cannot keep her all to myself, no matter how much I desperately need her.

She is darkness, forever haunted by the demons of her past; at times I wake to feel her shuddering through her nightmares, or crying softly in her sleep as she relives the horrors she has seen and experienced. All I can do is hold her to me and try and pour my love and support into her through whispered words and careful caresses, to help guide her back to peace. On the bad nights I may get no sleep, but I do it willingly, she deserves everything I can give her and more; if a sleepless night is the price for her peace, then I pay it gladly.

It matters not whether she is dressed in silks or jeans, in tailored suits or swim suits; she is beautiful beyond my dreams. She holds the power to take my breath away, leave me floundering as I wonder how she came to be mine.

She is more beautiful than I, people notice me, but remember her, they see my looks, the blue eyes, the blonde hair and the height and they come to me, but she captures their attention, those gorgeous grey eyes, the smile that lights up a room, the wickedly curved body that her clothes can only partially conceal, she is the one that captivates all who meet her.

Her body is more voluptuous, more memorable than mine. I am tall and long-legged, blessed with a body that, with exercise, remains acceptable, her's however could sell lingerie and grace the gatefolds of men's magazines, she has the better curves, plus breasts that are larger than usual for her frame, they capture everyone's attention. At times I want to slap people, men and women, who let their eyes wander over her, feasting on something that is mine alone.

She is my other half, the person who shares my hopes, my dreams, my joy, my love and my life, she is everything I could have ever dreamed of in a life partner, only truly far better than I am worthy of.

She is mine, I will fight for her, to protect her and cherish her and keep her mine, my life would have no meaning without her there, she is as essential to me as the air I breathe.

She is Anastasia and she is perfect.


	5. Chapter 5

**Intersecting Lines – Drabbles**

**Alex**

She is the embodiment and fulfillment of more than a decade of love and longing, despair and desire.

She is strength and stubbornness and compassion and comfort and giving, all in a single beautiful woman whose devotion to me is profoundly humbling, to know she considers me worthy of her love is a burden I bear proudly, determined never to give her cause to regret that choice.

She fuelled a decade of hopeless, despairing fantasies, the reality is so much better than I could ever have imagined, so much so that I sometimes wonder if she is a stunningly beautiful gift from god, reward for my years in purgatory, separated from her.

I see her righteous anger and reckless courage as she strives to protect the vulnerable and the innocent, avenge the lost and fallen and bring justice to the criminals and monsters who she must overcome.

Like so many quixotic heroes, her life carries a full measure of tragedy, enough to have broken someone weaker, but she does not falter, instead inspiring others around her to emulate her own relentless struggles.

I have always admired and envied her passion, to have it directed at me is a gift beyond measure and price, it is quite simply the most perfect, precious thing I have ever known, the more so as it is something my family's wealth and power could never have bought.

Instead it is freely given, a gift that quite simply steals my breath away each time that I realise once again that she has given herself to me, openly and completely. I still wonder how I am worthy of her love, a love that makes me complete yet asks for nothing more than my happiness in return.

Simply to be the center of her attention, her passion and her love is breathtaking; she can carry me to places that I never dreamed existed; better, she can make me feel somehow truly worthy of her love, something I still have trouble believing.

I know the crusades she fights, the victims she strives to defend, the monsters she defies, her battles are endless and they each take a tiny part of her. In front of others she is strong, decisive, relentless and compassionate, putting her life on the line without hesitation time and time again to protect the innocent and avenge the victims

Only I see the tired warrior who returns from the battle, discarding her armor, allowing me to see the deep physical and emotional wounds, the toll taken.

That is perhaps the greatest gift she has given me after her love. She allows me to be the one to see her at her lowest ebb, trusting that I will accept her, comfort and heal her. That trust is hard earned; only I see her weak, vulnerable and naked emotionally, sobbing into my shoulder as I hold her into the night, damning herself for every lost battle and fallen victim.

To be that person, to be the one she turns to when most needed, is an honour I bear proudly for how could I not, she is everything to me, loving me honestly, passionately and totally, making my life finally, fully complete.

Nothing calms me like being held in her arms, feeling her wrap her gentle strength and power around me, protective and loving and giving and mine. In her arms I am safely home, nothing else feels like her, nothing else possibly can.

I give her every part of me, all the love I possess, knowing she deserves all of it and more. I am in awe that of all the people she could have chosen, she has gifted herself, beautiful, complete and perfect, to me. That is a knowledge that has reduced me to tears more than once, that she loves me, with all my flaws, forsaking all others.

She is Olivia and she is my hero.


	6. Chapter 6

**Merry Christmas all, may you spend it in the company of friends, family and loved ones**

**Intersecting Lines – Drabbles**

**Olivia**

I'm a cop with a bad attitude, bad history and a bad track record with people, so how in god's name did she ever see anything in me?

Somehow she thought I was the one, the person who deserved her love, I still really can't believe she chose me, of all people she picked me.

She was my hopeless desire, the longing that consumed my dreams and fantasies for a decade; the reality is so much more than I could ever have imagined.

She is beautiful, classy, stylish and smart, I tell her she's way too good for me and she laughs at my words, not realising that to me it's the unvarnished truth; she is far, far too perfect for me.

I don't know how but she saw something in me that no one else did, saw that I was someone special and that she wanted to be with me, to love me, of all people.

She looked past the bad stuff, the face I turn to the public to hide the pain inside and saw the person no one else does, the part of me I keep well hidden. Hidden from everyone but her that is. I can't hide anything from her; she can read me like a book, the one person who sees me clearly.

She saw the person I want to be, not the person I am, she saw that and is helping me be that person, the one who can be at peace and happy, who can love and be loved.

Her love changed me and still is; she's warm and generous and patient and gentle with me as we explore this thing we have. It's more than love, we've both been in love, but it's never been anything like this.

With each other we don't have to be the person the rest of the world sees, instead we can be just us, without the masks and the clothing and the armor our jobs demand; I get to see the achingly beautiful woman she is, full of warmth and grace and humor and love.

We step into a room and I see the looks she attracts, her style, poise, glamour and beauty draw every eye, they stare at her and they want her, then she turns to me and smiles and somehow she makes me feel like I deserve to be there with her, by her side, the one she loves. I don't know how I ever managed to be so unbelievably lucky, but in her I've found the one person who loves me and who I love more than life itself.

I have her love and it fills me, lights my life during the darkest of days and warms me when everything around me is cold and black, she is my lighthouse in the dead of night, guiding me to safety and home.

I wake at night to feel her curled asleep upon me, my arms wrapped around her, holding her close. She tells me they make her feel loved and protected and safe and I smile, how could I not protect the most infinitely precious thing I have ever held. Her happiness and safety is the most important thing in my life, to make her smile and know I have made her happy is a feeling so joyous, so sublime I can hardly describe it.

I stare into those beautiful blue eyes and I lose myself in their depths, she is stunning and gorgeous and precious beyond measure. She means everything to me; I failed to protect her and I nearly lost her, losing her from my life for years in witness protection. Finally she came back, healing a gaping hole in my life that nothing else could fill. I would die to keep her safe, for without her my life has no meaning or purpose or happiness.

Her love is changing me, making me a person who is worthy of her, it's not an easy or simple task, but it's one I must make, to be hers body and soul is what I was born to be.

She is Alex and her love is a thing of wonder.


	7. Chapter 7

**Intersecting Lines – Drabbles**

**Sharon**

At my age I thought I'd seen it all, that life had no more surprises left, not good ones anyway.

I couldn't have been more wrong if I'd tried.

My life was settled, stable, safe and boring and that was how it was going to be, then she walked into it and changed everything, after her nothing was ever going to be the same again.

Not that I saw it coming, not at all. Far too much alike under the surface differences, we fought tooth and nail like cats and dogs.

We bickered, schemed and connived against each other about everything, pulled every sly, sneaky and underhanded trick in the book and honestly, we loved every minute of it. In a force full of male senior officers, she was the only one who gave as good as she got; our fights were the stuff of LAPD legend.

Now we're apparently legends for quite another reason entirely, the Ice Queen and the Beauty Queen, together; a combination that quite frankly terrifies the department's senior officers, much to our well-hidden amusement.

I didn't see it coming; would have laughed in their face if anyone had suggested it before it happened but it's the best thing to happen to me since my kids.

She's messy, disorganised, high maintenance and exasperating. She's also warm, loving and incredibly attentive and gives herself to me completely, trusting me above all others to protect her heart and soul. I don't know what I ever did to deserve her trust or her love but it means more to me than anything.

I'm neat, she's...not very. I'm quiet and reserved, she's loud and boisterous, I'm Brahms and Mozart, she's Shania and the Dixie Chicks, I'm Vanity Fair and The Economist, she's Lonely Planet and National Geographic, I'm the West Wing and the Newsroom, she's The Blacklist and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. We really are poles apart, in almost every way.

It shouldn't work, not really, not in any normal reality, but somehow it just does, just like the way we dance together, easy and natural and sexy and fun.

We'll both fight for us, for what we have, what we're building together. I scheme to get what I want, steamroller through those who don't get out of the way, she charms her way to what she wants, bulldozers her way over the top of anyone she can't charm. Maybe we're more alike than I thought, god help anyone who stands in our way, as plenty of people have found.

She strolled into my world, my life, my bed and my soul, filling a hole in my heart I'd tried to ignore for far too long.

Now I have a new appreciation for life, not just living. Every day is an exploration, two strong-willed women negotiating boundaries and exploring what we have, what we're building, together. It's new and different and occasionally awkward and messy but I wouldn't swap it for the world.

She loves like she lives her life, loud and overbearing, all in and without limits, she makes you know just how much she loves you, through word and deed and action and I've never felt so loved, more than that, so cherished, the realisation takes my breath away sometimes, leaving me smiling as the sense of joy fills me again.

Being with her makes me feel like a teenager again, picnics and bad food, well sometimes, marathons in bed and making out in the back row of the Arc-Light Cinema to the background sounds of classic French movies, my life is suddenly crowded and hectic and exciting and fun once more.

Everyone is telling me I've changed, that I'm happier, I smile more, a little softer, a little less reserved, if that's true then I credit her for the changes, after years alone and lonely, my life is suddenly overflowing with life and love once more..

Life with her is busy and messy and raucous and untidy, two control-freak workaholics doing our damndest to make it work, but I wouldn't, I couldn't, swap it for anything.

She is Brenda and she is my last, best chance at happiness.


End file.
